All the Mohr 1 Methos Was Death
by storygirl420
Summary: Newly positioned Methos Chronicler Rachel Mohr has keys to Methos past she doesn't even know she's holding. What will Methos do when she seeks 'Adam Pierson's' help and he finds that Cassandra is the one laying her breadcrumbs?


Author: Jeanine Stice

Title: Methos was Death

E-mail: M Contains content suitable for mature teens and older.

Sequel: First in, All the Mohr, series

Keywords: All the Mohr Story 1

Character listing: J, M, (Original Character) Rachel Mohr

Summary: Newly positioned Methos Chronicler Rachel Mohr has keys to Methos past she doesn't even know she's holding. What will Methos do when she seeks 'Adam Pierson's' help and he finds that Cassandra is the one laying her breadcrumbs?

Authors notes: (Hey you, reader, yeah _you_. You do know this is just and excuse for the writer to…_write_?) Well this is shorter than I'd like, but I really want to move on. My Methos muse never talked faster than he did with this story. Duncan isn't around for this one, neither is Richie. Truthfully I haven't decided if Richie is going to live in this alternative universe or not. Not beta read all mistakes are mine (you need a beta reader to beta read). This will be the first story I submitted online, but not the first I've done by far. This one is pretty tame for my work, so as a warning it will get worse in the future. I'm not sure if they stated who the Watcher was that took Methos' place when he left, so I just made up my own character.

Disclaimers: I don't own Joe, Methos or the Highlander concept, DDP does. Truthfully the gang just followed me home one day, I fed them and now they won't leave. I make no money from this, just the enjoyment of sharing.

Thanks: To the readers, you make it worth my tight neck and sore shoulders from sitting at the computer for so long. To my parents, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here! Thanks to Mr. Miller and all my muses.

Feedback: It is my sustenance as a writer, how else will I GROW.

Methos Was Death

Twenty four year old Rachel Mohr sighed as she got up off her couch and went to the kitchen, pulling a beer out of her fridge. Pulling off the cap she threw it on the counter, taking a deep pull off it. A bone weary sigh passed her lips as she rolled the cool bottle across her forehead. Her mind was still whirling from the implications. God she didn't even know why she was contemplating it. She had lost her bloody mind and that was the end of it.

While the answer to her troubles was in Paris, still living in the same flat he had for years, she wasn't sure if she wanted to call him. Besides he was no longer a Watcher, so she was not sure what to say or how to go about saying it.

"Bloody mongrel" Rachel said sighing.

She could try calling Head Quarters again to get more information, but she knew she'd just get a brush off. A light went off in the back of her mind, and she smiled evilly. Putting the beer down on her coffee table she went over to her desk and grabbed an address book off it. She just had to call and get it over with, he was really the only one that could provide her with useful answers if he was willing. She flipped the book open to the 'P' section skimming the page until she found the number she was looking for. Dropping the address book she picked up her phone, and dialed the number. The phone was picked up by the third ring.

"Adam Pierson."

"Mr. Pierson, Hello my names Rachel Mohr, I'm the head of the Methos chronicles and I was wondering if you could help me?"

"I thought Mark Farson was the new head?"

"He was, until he went a little nuts, well they said he had a brake down. That is actually the start of my problem, you see in the midst of this 'brake down' he tore pages from the chronicles that we have, destroying sixteen percent of the research we have."

"Sixteen percent?"

"Yeah, and instead of destroying five or six books, he ripped pages out of at least twenty."

"Does any one know why he tore the books up?"

"I think HQ might know, but they didn't tell me. I've only seen Mark once sense I took over, all he said to me was 'Methos is death' what ever that's supposed to mean. The reason I was calling Mr. Pierson is to see if we could meet so I could pick at your memory and look at any copies you may have kept."

"Well I did take around fifteen copes, but I'd have to get those out of storage. I could come over tomorrow and you can 'pick at my memory' and then Wednesday I could come over with the books."

"That would be a god send." Rachel said smiling. "Here I'll give you my address and phone number." Rachel said giving the appropriate information.

Methos' forehead creased in concern as he disconnected with Miss Mohr. Mark had called Methos Death, which was an obvious reference to his horsemen days. Panic seemed to set into his bones, could he have left some unknown century's old clue to link Methos as one of the Horsemen of the apocalypse? If that was the case, then Rachel seemed blissfully unaware of it. Then there was the timely madness of Mark, what in the blazes was that?

Methos picked up the receiver of the phone, dialing the number for Joe Dawson. He could see what all the mortal knew about Mark and the brake down. He would have to do some damage control, and try to figure out what piece of evidence the old man found, so he could hide it, before Miss Mohr discovered it. A smirk appeared unbidden on his face; well he had been finding himself a bit bored lately, hadn't he? This would be the perfect opportunity to do something entertaining.

Coming back to reality, and to his phone call Methos realized the phone was on its sixth ring. He disconnected the call, pursing his lips together as he thought about his next course of action. After a moments hesitation he got up and went to his computer, turning it on. He had created that back door into the Watchers archive for a reason. Grabbing a beer while the computer booted up, Methos popped it open and threw the cap behind the fridge, settling down in a chair in front of the screen for a long night.

The next day as he stepped up onto the porch step in front of Rachel Mohr's House, Methos felt an unexpected sensation. The presence of a pre-immortal, it caused Methos to show his first bit of reluctance towards jumping into this thing. After a moment though he raised his hand and knocked on her door. When the door opened, and Methos laid eyes onto Rachel Mohr for the first time, a gasp left his lips. It was the same, the red hair, the lush lips, the pale skin, the thin eyebrows, and green eyes.

Methos felt the world tilt as the turn of time was reversed and he felt for a moment like he was back in Scotland seven hundred years ago. Morgan standing before him in her wedding dress, her green eyes shyly diverted from his (eyes that reminded him so much of Cassandra's). She had been one of his most passionate mortal wives, and in this woman he found her almost identical twin.

"Adam Pierson?" She asked smiling slightly at him. He smiled and nodded at her, felling his heart pound in his chest. This situation had just gotten ten times worse then he had feared.

"Rachel Mohr I presume?" Methos said offering her his hand. She shook it, smiling, and opened the door wider for him to enter.

"Yeah, thanks for coming Mr. Pierson, I appreciate this. I don't know why but it always surprises me when the higher ups expect me to pull information out of my ass. They sent me an inquiry, knowing that they hadn't given me the replacements for the missing pages which had half of the information I need in it." Adam smiled at Rachel as she closed the door, nodding his head at her remark.

"I know exactly what you mean." Adam said smiling at her. This had defiantly gotten more interesting than he'd originally anticipated.

Rachel had to fight to keep the growl from coming out of her mouth as she opened the door to Adam Pierson. One of her friends in the watchers Mary Heat had met Pierson once and had told Rachel that he was totally her type. Rachel now understood the girl's stubbornly sure statement. The sharp features and tall lean form was something she instantly longed to get her hands on, skin to skin. His pale unblemished skin made her glow inside with yearning. This was a man she could lose herself in for hours.

After leading him in to her living room, a mess of books on the tables along with sloppy hand written notes. She was the only person that could even read them, the handwriting occasionally waving in and out of the lines and some of the letters not resembling English. Mary had once said it would take several linguist and many years for someone to translate her short hand. She offered him a seat on the couch, asking if he'd like something to drink.

"Beer, thanks." He said his eyes on the coffee table before him where he surly recognized some of the Methos Chronicles. Walking into her kitchen Rachel opened up the fridge pulling two beers out of the six-pack it was her favorite brand. After closing the door she rested her forehead against it's cool surface, assuring herself mentally that she knew what she was doing.

Walking back to the couch she sat down next to him quietly handing him the beer. He nodded his thanks as he narrowed his eyes as one of her pages of notes in his hand.

"You're looking into Methos' life in Peru?" Adam asked her as he looked at her notes. After a few minutes of silence on her part he looked over to find her staring at him her jaw on the floor. "Did I say something wrong?" He asked a quizzical expression crossing his face.

"Um n-no it's just that no one has ever been able to read my short hand before you did just now. Man Justin wasn't lying when he said you were a great linguist." Rachel said with a smile shaking her head ruefully. Adam's face was instantly lit by a smile at the name, warmth entering his eyes with the act.

"Justin Paul?" He asked the smile lingering on his face.

"Yep." Rachel nodded once. "Old drinking buddy of mine from when we were kids, you mean you had the unpleasant experience of his acquaintance?" Rachel asked with a warm smile. This bright and cheery man that was full life was not what she had expected.

"Are you kidding, the first time I met him he was drunk as a skunk. He started mumbling about Immortals the second I sat next to him at the bar, before he knew I was a Watcher. All though I'd had a few drinks I was by no means drunk and remember that nights conversations like they were ten minutes ago. No matter what Justin says I was sober when I sat down and had not told him of my profession before he ran off at the mouth." Adam said chuckling as he shook his head ruefully.

Laughing Rachel nodded her head, understanding what he meant. She knew how Justin had the tendency to run off at the mouth, drunk or sober. Thing was his sober run off's tended to be more violent in nature, ranging on arguments where he never managed to hold his tongue. Adam caught her attention dragging her away from thoughts of the past to ask her about what information she needed. So there the two of them stayed in her House digging deeply into the past as Rachel relayed to him the information she needed and Adam did what he could to find some reference in his memory. They had spent five hours together working on a research project before it grew too late and Adam had to make his way home.

Adam had assured her he would come back on Wednesday before he'd left Rachel alone to her thoughts. She wasn't sure whether or not she believed the information she'd received before she'd picked up the phone and called him. It all made seance yes, made some pieces fall into place-like as to how he'd been able to read her short hand-but she was still uneasy. It was her source of information that made her blood run cold. Sitting on the floor leaning against her wall under her window Rachel had a beer in her hand resting on her thigh her bare feet pressed together to make a diamond shape out of her legs.

Sighing she rested her head back against the wall, her thoughts whirring around her endlessly. She jumped almost spilling her half-full beer as the phone rang. Rachel looked at the beer with unease, that wasn't like her she'd opened the beer almost an hour before normally she'd have finished it by now. Reaching forward and snatching up her cordless from the coffee table in front of her couch (a few feet in front of her) she placed the phone to her ear, holding it in place with her shoulder.

"Yes?" She snapped out disliking being pulled out of her brainstorming.

"Do you believe me now?" A cold woman's voice spoke. Sighing with unease at the voice Rachel let her head slam back into the wall loosening some of her frustration, so she did it again…a few times.

"Who the-fuck-are you?" She snarled out. "Why dose this mean anything to you?"

"Because the thousands of people he killed deserve their revenge."

"Thousands-killed-Adam!" Rachel exclaimed in disbelief.

"He is not Adam." The woman stated coolly.

"So you've stated." Rachel replied with annoyance. "And I find it hard to believe that the man I just spent hours with could be the murderer of thousands."

"If you still disbelieve, find your predecessor." The woman stated before hanging up.

Growling Rachel pushed the 'end call' button to turn off her phone before slamming her head into the wall a few more times. She stopped with a wince a few moments later, it wasn't helping her, only giving her a headache. Okay so she would take Ice Queen-Bitches advice and go and see Mark, it could help her dig up something. Running her hands threw the hair she had let down after Adam left she sighed, what was her life coming to? She had a strange woman calling her at all hours, revealing to her information that not just anyone could get there hands on to. She was seriously entangled in someone's schemes and she did NOT like it.

So she found herself driving down the backcountry near the out stretches of Paris on Monday towards the Institution that Mark Farson had been placed in. She had her radio blasting in order to keep her in an up beat mood and not thinking about what was going on in her life. She'd called up the Hospital before deciding she was going to drive out, annoying herself on the phone while she instantly went into procedure for an Institution in France. Of course how could she not know the procedure when her mo-no she was not going to think about this when she was going to be in the hospital soon enough. She was going to have enough problems with the memories while she was there as it was, and she was going to need all her attention focused on the man she was questioning.

She slowed down slightly as the Hospital came into view over the next rise. Mary had been right when she given her this information, the place was a fortress. Mark definitely had some family money for this, there was no way the watchers were covering this tab. Pulling up alongside the guard in the box a few feet before the fence Rachel rolled down her window to speak to him-her she noted with a smile. Gotta love women's lib'.

"I'm here to see Mark Farson." She said smiling at the women. "My names Rachel Mohr." She said holding up her driver's license.

The women looked up at her over the winters latest fashion magazine her eyes narrowing marginally. Lowering the issue, she punched the button to open the gate and barred herself back into the magazine. Turning back to the road Rachel pulled in past the gate, turning into the 'guests' parking lot and parking. Stepping out of the car she grabbed her dossier from the passenger side before setting her car alarm and locking her doors. Stepping inside the building she was directed to the elevators and respectively to the third floor by a pudgy forty something nurse who gave her a 'visitors pass' to hang from her neck.

Stepping out of the elevator she went left down the hall towards another nurses desk. As she walked breathed in deeply the sterile smell of the hospital fighting back some unpleasant memories. She was unaware as her steps slowed and less aware of her legs stopping to walk as she was sucked into the past.

Ten Years Ago

A Mental Hospital

Rachel looked around at all the moaning screeching and scary people as she was dragged by her hand down the halls. She did not want to be here, she did not want to see this, and she did not want to know this. Fourteen year old Rachel had little to no choice as she was practically yanked off her feet by her Aunts steady gait when she slowed. Of course Carletta wasn't really her aunt, she had been adopted, as the old woman often times took every chance to remind her. Perhaps it was best, for it meant she was not trapped by genes to end up with the same fate as that of her mother. Rachel resigned herself to this visit, assuring herself that next year she could talk her father into the uselessness of it.

He sent her up here once a year for this visit. For some reason he made sure that she was without him, and with her aunt for her yearly visits to her mother. Perhaps he thought being there with another woman as she saw her mothers ruined form would help her. It never did, her aunt never offered her any consolation for her grieving. She would only go on with her reminders about how she was not a member of the Mohr family, had gone so far as to blame Rachel on her sister's retreat from reality. Rachel turned a deaf ear to her aunts viscous words, learning they couldn't hurt her as much if she didn't hear them.

Every year she went back, at home getting lost in the glow of her father's life, learning from him as she sat in his lap, content and happy a smile always plastered on her face. She'd forget, until the month suddenly slammed her in the face making her cold inside. It was the worst part of every year, staying at her aunts for the two weeks, going to the hospital to see her mother. It was her own version of hell, her aunt spitting every hateful word at her, her mothers mental collapse only adding to her stress. Then she'd go home, and get lost in the glow again, learning some new language from her father to make him happy and spend more time with him.

Narrowing her eyes as she took a sidelong glance at her aunt. She muttered in one of the many languages she'd learned about her aunt fornicating with a jackass and being a cold-hearted bitch. Her aunt came to such a screeching halt that her shoulder was yanked roughly-as she continued to practically jog forward because of her aunts fast pace-and her aunts hold on her arm kept her from moving that far forward. Spinning Rachel by a painful yank on her already sore arm she force her to look at her daggered eyes. Although Rachel was sure that Carl didn't know what she'd said she also knew of her aunts dislike of her using any language she didn't know.

"Missy, what have I told you about using those heathen tongues?" Carletta asked smacking her smartly across the face.

Rachel didn't even have time to register the blow before she was yanked forward yet again by her aunt tugging roughly on her arm. She brought her free hand to cradle the cheek, mad at the whole world for her circumstances. Why did she have to be here? She wondered again for the fifteen billionth time. It wasn't that she didn't love her mother, it was that she hated the place and the other people in it, she hated the stranger her mother had become, and the things she said that were oh so similar to the litany her aunt told her.

After a few more minutes her aunt stopped outside a door, Rachel moved to stand in front of her aunt while she rested her hands on her shoulders. She heard her aunt sigh above her, her shoulder's tense at having her behind her like that. After another moment, her aunt pushed her roughly forward, almost toppling Rachel onto her face.

"Go'on" Her Aunt drawled, her hard face looking at her emotionlessly. "Go see my sister, whom your caring on about drove mad." She stated coldly before moving to sit in one of the chairs place strategically near by. This was another thing that Rachel hated, her Aunt never went inside with her, hell she never went inside at all. For someone who claimed to be so close to her sister she spent amazingly little time trying to get close to her. Sighing Rachel took the doorknob in her hand, slowly turning it and opening up the door with a creek.

Squaring her shoulders she stepped inside the dark room, letting the door fall softly closed behind her. The room had no lights on, proving to keep her from seeing her mother. She remembered how she used to be, before she'd gotten sick when Rachel was eight. Her red hair the same shade as Rachel's own always pulled back into some braid or bun and almost never down. She never wore make up or jeans, always wearing a vinilla perfume. She would hold her in her lap while she played the piano, Rachel singing along with her sweet voice.

"Whooos in here?" She heard her mother's voice quarry musically before she broke out into giggles that rose goose bumps.

"Mama?" Rachel called out softly, hopefully.

This moment was what she hated the yearly visits so desperately for. For the false hopes it would raise that her mother would one day remember her as her baby girl, pulling her into a big hug and giving her Eskimo kisses.

"Bitch." The words were hissed out coldly, almost instantly bringing her eyes to tears. Well if anyone wondered were she got her mouth they'd understand now. "Little fucking parentless brat. Cunting little whore what did they bring you here for? To see the freak, well here then look." Her mother said in the same cold voice so different from the one she remembered. Light forced her to close her eyes as her mother turned on a near by lamp. Opening her eyes she saw her mother was lying in the bed with the covers down by her feet. She sat in one of the nightgowns Rachel knew her father had brought her.

Her red hair was about her in tangles, unkept and probably uncombed for years. She never let any of the nurses near her hair, went into a wild rage if any of them tried to comb it. Rachel shook as she stood there looking into the crazy and cold eyes, wondering where her loving mother had gone. Gillian Mohr was no longer the woman her daughter remembered her to be, she was something, someone else. Looking at the women who was a stranger to her Rachel was barley aware of the tears streaming down her face. Growling the woman jumped out of her bed, smacking her daughter for the first time in her life.

With a cry Rachel fell on her back, crawling back away from her mother with wide eyes. Tears streamed freely down her face, and for a moment Rachel thought she saw her mother return to her, a sadness claming Gillian's features. Then the coldness came back and she took a step forward, her bare foot slapping against the floor. Crying out Rachel surged to her feet, and ran to the door struggling with the handle. Opening it she surged out of the room running past her aunt and threw the halls. Later leaving the hospital suitably calmed down by one of the doctor's Rachel made a silent promise to herself that she would never come back there.

Rachel jumped startled as a hand came down on her shoulder. Looking over Rachel found herself looking into calming blue eyes of a doctor, noticeable by her white robe. Shaking off the unease Rachel forced a smile to her face as she regarded the woman a good head shorter than her. She had short-cropped brown hair and slightly tanned skin, a clean-cut dress suit under the robe.

"Miss Mohr?" The doctor asked her in a sweet voice.

"Yes?" Rachel answered with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm doctor Harris, we spoke on the phone." The woman replied smiling at her.

"Oh yes Doctor Harris, pleasure to meet you." Rachel replied offering her hand. The doctor took it, shaking her hand warmly before resting both her hands in her pockets and motioning for Rachel to follow her as she began walking towards the nurse's station.

"Mark Farson is just up the way, it should be a good day to talk to him." The doctor said with a smile. "All though I have the feeling you are familiar with the regulations and rules Institutes such as these have for visitors I will give you a down run on Mr. Farson's personal restrictions. First of all, do not under any circumstances touch him." The doctor said as they walked past the nurse's station and farther down the hall. "Also, do not make any quick moments or raise your voice in any way. Do not speak to him with hostility, and try not to unbalance him in anyway. Do you understand all I have told you?"

"Yes Doctor Harris," Rachel replied nodding at her. "And I thank you again for agreeing to let me see your patient."

"Well I was a little weary at first, but after talking with you for a time on the phone I was sure you were knowledgeable enough to understand, the delicateness of this situation. Somewhere in there that man is a person in fear and pain, we have to try and help him in any way we can. I just wanted to understand that you would not do anything that could harm or cause him to harm him self or others." The doctor said coming to a stop and turning to Rachel.

Nodding as she looked at her feet, Rachel had her left hand clutching her bicep. Shifting her feet, Rachel looked up her eyes swimming with liquid.

"I understand doctor, and I assure you the last thing I am here to do is cause that man any more pain." She said with reverence. The Doctor placed a warm hand on her right bicep, where her fingers were clutching onto her arm. Rachel's finger's almost instantly soothed, as she closed her eyes, the touch seeming to ground her some how.

"Are you all right?" The doctor asked her softly. Looking around at the empty hallways Rachel nodded and stepped back.

"My uh mother was in an Institution for twelve years before she left us." Rachel replied whipping her eyes with the backs of her hands.

"I'm sorry." The doctor replied nodding solemnly at her. "I've had Mr. Farson brought into this room for you. There is an orderly behind the glass incase Mr. Farson should get violent. I will be in my office doing my Charts if you need me." Doctor Harris said offering her hand.

"Thanks Doctor Harris." Rachel replied smiling at her.

"Please call me Shannon." The doctor said as she started to walk away.

"Just as long as you call me Rachel." Rachel replied. The doctor turned around, smiling at her.

"Thanks Rachel, hope you get what you're looking for." Shannon replied.

"Thanks Shannon." Rachel replied turning to the door as Shannon walked away. Taking a deep breath Rachel opened the door, and stepped in.

The room was as expected, immaculately clean and white. One table placed in the small room, with two chairs. One was occupied by Mark Farson, in the uniform pajamas for this hospital powder blue with a gray lining. His face was haggard and drawn, his weight down by at least fifty pounds. His eyes were sunken and hollow his beard wild.

"Mark, it's me Rachel Mohr from Work." Rachel replied putting an emphasis on the word 'work' as she sat down. Mark had his hands slumped into his lap in front of him. Slowly he pulled them up and put them on the table, then brought his eyes up to her.

Locking eyes with her his jaw dropped open and his eyes grew wide.

"She's got the witch's eyes." He said as if speaking to himself or another occupant of the room she couldn't see.

"Who's the witch?" Rachel asked quietly, hopping to coax him into conversation.

"The one with the cold voice, steeling me to do what I do not wish." He said in a low voice, looking down at his hands. Rachel's mind instantly went to the woman on the phone, could her 'bitch' and his 'witch' be the same person, or could all of this be some crazy mans ramblings? She did not know but decided to roll with it because it got him talking, she would take this slow and see where it goes.

"What didn't you want to do?" Rachel asked, then practically bit her tongue off. She could have asked him fifty other obvious questions like how she made Mark do what he didn't want in stead of asking him a question that could so obviously upset him. The man in front of her started to shake in his chair his eyes gone impossibly wide.

"You don't need to answer that Mark." Rachel said in what she hopped was a soothing voice. After a moment the shaking started to slow, then abated.

"How did she make you do what you didn't want?" Rachel asked hoping to divert from the previous topic.

"Her voices." He said his voice cracking. "Something about her voice, you want to do what she tells." He whispered.

"And what does she tell you?" Rachel asked leaning closer, her arms folded on the table.

"Methos is Death." Mark replied reverently.

"Yes but what does that mean, he was Death?" Rachel asked, surprised it was so quickly coming to exactly what she was looking for.

"The Horsemen." Mark replied. "Rach?" He said narrowing his eyes at her.

"Yeah Mark it's me." Rachel replied smiling at the man, surprised really that he recognized her.

They never were really close friends, just associated by work mostly.

"She asked about you." He stated. Rachel leaned back in the chair her eyes growing wide. She was suddenly beginning to think that his girl being hers was not such a stretch.

"She?" Rachel asked.

"The witch Cassandra." He stated again, keeping his eye locked on hers.

"When did she ask you?" Rachel asked him leaning forward over the table again.

"When she had me, before the Watchers found me." Mark started his brow furrowing. Rachel found herself stunned again, she hadn't been aware he'd been missing.

"Had you?" Rachel asked, realizing he was coming more and more out of his shell. His facial expressions were more and more like she remembered, he was shifting around in his chair occasionally and sitting up straight.

"She grabbed me from home one night, just knocked and the door, and used her Siren voice and told me to leave with her."

"Where she asked about me by name?" Rachel asked.

"Not by name, she asked about the person that would most likely replace me on the Methos chronicles." Mark replied.

"What did you mean when you said Methos is Death, the Horsemen?" Rachel asked hoping to detour him from talking about work while they had an audience.

"Death, the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Book of Revelations chapter six."

"What, you're saying that Methos was Death from the bible?"

"Yes, Methos is Death."

"Is Cassandra in the records?" Rachel asked.

"Yes, in Duncan MacLeods, and she has had a Watcher at times."

"What does she look like?" Rachel asked him.

"Short and small, long curly hair that's reddish brown, your eyes."

"Did she tell you how she knew this about Methos, that was three thousand years ago." Rachel replied.

"She was a victim of his hands, she wishes revenge."

"That explains it."

"She's going to find me, she going to find you, and she's going to take him." Mark said starting to rock back and forth. "You will tell them all." He said in a low voice. "You will smear his name among the worshiping. He is not all wise and kind, he is a killer dark and insane." Mark continued on in a monotone voice.

Rachel turned as the door opened and a white uniformed male orderly stepped inside.

"Come on Mr. Farson I think you're getting a little to worked up." The man said walking over to the man and pulling him standing by his arm.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset him." Rachel said to the orderly as he held on to the mumbling man.

"It's alright Miss Mohr you were doing real good in here." The orderly said smiling at her as he left the room. Sighing Rachel to left the room and started down the hall back to the elevator pushing the button to take it down she rubbed the back of her neck as she digested the information. She was almost sure that she was getting these calls from Cassandra. If everything was true then Adam was Methos and Cassandra was after his head. She sure wasn't going to help Cassandra, but she didn't know if warning him would be a good idea either.

It was quite obvious that Cassandra wasn't opposed to using the Watchers for her scheme. She'd grabbed Mark Farson, and did god knows what to him. She'd have to check the Chronicles for reports of this 'voice power' that Mark claimed the woman had, see if the was any truth to it. Stepping into the elevator and pressing the button for the ground floor Rachel leaned back against the wall. If only she knew what Cassandra's plan was she could have a definite course of action. The woman seemed to be trying to get her to help her, but what if that wasn't it?

Sighing Rachel walked out of the building and to her car. Glancing around at the quiet grounds before getting into her car and starting it up. Grabbing her cell phone Rachel dialed Mary's work number before pulling out and driving over to the exit. She counted to the third ring as she waited for the guard to open the gate. She was pulling out and about to hang up when the line was finally picked up.

"Mary Heat," Mary answered sounding out of breath.

"Hey Mary what took? Business booming?" She asked with a smile, Mary wasn't in research like her she worked in the field.

"Rachel?" Mary said happily. "You wouldn't believe what happened! Head Quarters is in an up roar, everyone is going crazy over here!" Mary said excitedly. Rachel felt a very distinct sinking feeling in her gut.

"What's going on?" Rachel asked casually.

"A ex-watcher was just identified as an Immortal!" Mary replied in disbelief tinged with horror.

Rachel felt the sinking get deeper.

"You're kidding who is it?" Rachel asked hopping she sounded as horrified as Mary did. She didn't see what the big deal was she thought a few older immortals in the research section might speed things up a bit.

"Adam Pierson, the guy who had your job I told you he was totally your type?" Mary said sucking in a breath. "Shit girl you never took my advice did you?" She asked in horror.

"No, I never met him." Rachel replied. Lie number one, the tally in her head said. This is what you get for hanging around with immortals and braking your oath. Of course she didn't know for sure when she met him that he was an immortal. How did they know he was an immortal, what could they have seen? "How do we know?" Rachel asked Mary.

"He was challenged early this morning when he left Joe's at around four in the morning." Mary replied. "It was a nasty customer named Marshal Rivers, his watcher saw everything from his position. He had even met Adam a couple of times a few years back." Mary said.

Rachel heard someone talking to Mary in the background and heard Mary cover the phone with her hand as she talked to him or her. "Listen Rachel I've got to go, like I said, its nuts here right now." Mary said talking into the phone again.

"All right thanks, oh wait I have a question to asked you."

"Yeah?" Mary asked her.

"Have you ever heard of a female immortal using her voice to force people to do what she wants?"

"Oh yeah I heard Dave mouth off about Cassandra's ability's all the time, it's just called The Voice. She uses it all the time with mortals or immortals. Why did a case of it come up?" Mary asked.

"I don't know for sure, you know how my mind works." Rachel replied with a grin. "Thanks Mare I'll talk to you later." Rachel said ending the call and throwing the phone in the passenger seat. "Well Shit." She said to herself.

Methos ran his hands threw his still moist hair as he waited for the coffee to finish brewing. He'd had a long night last night and had taken a shower we he got up, still bloody and wearing his cloths from the night before. He hadn't left Joe's till close to dawn, a warm buzz accompanying him on his walk. When was he going to learn to take his car, so he didn't get challenged on a simple walk home. When he finally made it home after a long and disturbing Quickening he'd just fallen into bed and gone to sleep.

He'd slept most of the day away, waking after five. He'd peeled his cloths off, skin getting pulled off where the blood had fused the cloths to his skin. He'd felt almost human again after the shower, and decided a nice cup of coffee would do the trick to wake him out of his stupor. Grabbing the pot he filled his mug, taking a long drink off the scalding liquid before pulling out his cream and sugar. After preparing a cup of coffee that took five thousand years to perfect he put the cream and sugar away, groaning as a knock came to the door.

Not bothering with the bulky sweater waiting for him on the couch he walked to the door with out a shirt on. He did not feel like company today, and he'd impale them if they were a sales man. He flung open the door just as he felt the tingle of a pre-immortal presence, Rachel Mohr jumped from the surprising force with which he opened the door. She blinked at him with wide eyes as she took in his shirt less form.

"Umm A-Adam is this a bad t-time?" Rachel asked tripping over her words. He watched as she glanced around at the street behind her.

"No come on in." Adam replied opening the door wider for her to come in.

Stepping inside past him Rachel nodded her thanks as he closed the door behind her.

"Nice place." She said, her shoulders stiff with tension. Observing her he could read the tension in her stance as she fidgeted with her hands in her back pockets. Grabbing his sweater off the couch he pulled it on, stuffing his hands onto his front pockets after it was settled.

"Something wrong Rachel?" Methos asked walking to stand in front of her.

"Shit I shouldn't be here." Rachel said not looking at him, rubbing her hand over her eyes.

"Why shouldn't you be here?" Methos asked giving her a bemused smile.

"HQ is going crazy right now, because of you." Rachel replied looking over at him. "You've been identified as an immortal." Rachel replied running her hand threw her hair.

"Fuck!" Methos stated letting his head fall back so he could look at the ceiling. "How? The challenge last night?"

"Yeah, Marshal's watcher got you on film. That's not the worst news either." Rachel replied crossing her arms over her chest. Methos narrowed his eyes at her, this was nice information to have but why was Rachel being so forward with it?

"Why are you telling me this if you know I'm an immortal?" He asked raising an eyebrow.

"Because I'm involved in this weather I want to be or not, her plan not mine."

"Whose plan?" Methos asked his eyes narrowing more.

"Cassandra's." Rachel said shortly.

"Shit!" Methos cried bringing his hands to his temples. He walked into the kitchen, yanking the fridge door open. "Want a beer?" He asked grabbing one for himself.

"Uh yeah thanks." Rachel replied from the living room.

Grabbing another from the fridge he closed it and walked into the kitchen finding Rachel looking over his collection of books. "Thanks" she said taking the offered beer.

"So tell me what's going on." Methos asked sitting down on the couch and opening his beer. Rachel opened hers as well, taking a long pull and closing her eyes as she savored the flavor.

"About a month ago I started to get phone calls at all hours of the night." Rachel said looking off into the distance. "A woman's, cold voice telling me you 'Adam Pierson' were actually Methos, worlds oldest lived Immortal. She also said that you were responsible for the death of thousands. A few days ago she told me to go talk to Mark, and I found he had some more interesting things to say about who I believe is the woman calling me, Cassandra."

"Cassandra?" Methos asked her leaning forward.

"Yeah, she apparently kidnapped him before the Watchers found him and had him placed in an institution. She wanted him to tell the Watchers about 'Methos' being a Horseman, more specifically Death. She's been trying to convince me of your guilt and the need for justice." Rachel replied taking another long drink of her beer.

"So what are you doing here?" Methos asked standing up and approaching her. "I mean as far as she's told you I'm a psychopathic killer."

"You're not crazy, I know a crazy person when I meet them. Now Cassandra or who ever the woman is that's calling me, she's crazy. I don't know if every thing she's said is true, but even if it were, then I would still warn you."

"Why?" Methos asked truly lost. If she knew he was a Horsemen or if there was even the chance why was she anywhere near him?

"Because I have no right to judge something that happened millennia before I was born. I took ancient history in collage I know that the world was a completely different place back then, so different I'm sure I could never understand it. Besides looking at the big picture, she's more dangerous right now than you are. Far as I know you haven't hurt anyone lately, but she did god knows what to Mark."

"You sure have thought this threw." Methos replied sitting back down.

"Didn't have much of a choice, I had to think of this from every angle. She won't stop, and I don't like the means she's using to get her justice. She's dragged me into this for some reason, and I have no idea what it is yet, for all I know she could have planned for me to warn you." Rachel said sighing. "Anyway, that's all of it." She said motioning with her arms wide.

"I thank you Rachel." Methos said approaching her. "I assure you I am not the man I was three thousand years ago. I assume she neglected to mention that I added in the killing of the other three Horsemen?" Methos asked her with his hands on his hips.

"Yeah," Rachel replied. "She didn't say anything about it."

"I tried to make her understand that I wasn't who I was three thousand years ago, none of them understood that. I deeply regret the time, and understand there is nothing I can do to make up for it. I had hoped that time was all she needed, but it seems she's decided she has none left. I don't want to kill her but I won't abide by her harming innocent people in her quest for me."

"I understand." Rachel said nodding her head. "Or at least I like to think I do. Good luck Methos, I should be going." Rachel said turning for the door.

"Rachel?" Methos called out stopping her. She turned to look at him, her eyebrows raised. "What are you planning to tell the Watchers?" He asked. Rachel smiled at him shaking her head and putting her hands into her front pockets.

"I don't think telling the Watchers would be a good idea, I'm well aware of the leeks we have in the organization. I could only imagine the response the immortal population would have to a five thousand year old Quickening."

"Thank you, for everything." Methos watched as Rachel turned and walked to the door.

He stopped her again as she had her hand on the doorknob. "Dose this mean all those hours of work that night, and all that crawling I did in the storage space were all for nothing?" Methos asked with mock anger. She continued to look straight ahead and for a moment he though she'd taken him seriously. Turning around Rachel greeted him with a large grin and laughing eyes.

"Believe it or not no…that was the kicker that finally got me to call you. I actually did need your help in the research." She replied chuckling. Methos laughed as well, shaking his head.

"Well in that case I'm glad the higher ups wanted you to pull information out of your ass." He said with a laugh. "Drive safe." He replied stepping forward and opening the door for her. Rachel nodded a thanks to him and slid out the door.

Methos leaned back against the door after he closed it slowly sliding to the floor. The Watcher's knew his persona was Immortal, and Cassandra was on the lose trying to let his identity out. Some of the worst fears in his life were finally coming true. Worst of all, he was going to have to kill Cassandra; he bared no small amount of guilt in that area. He had loved her in a sick way once, and he now realized that what he'd done had ruined her beyond repair. Pulling his arms around his legs, he buried his head in his knees.

Standing in the kitchen of her home two hours later Rachel made her dinner in a spaghetti strap tank top and drawstring stretch pants. She was making authentic sweet and sour chicken, one of her father's recipes. It was how he'd originally gotten involved in linguistic, he'd loved traveling and would learn the native tongue of every place he visited. So along the way he'd picked up quiet a few authentic recipes, she danced around a bit as Joydrop's Metasexual played in the background. She stirred the food in the wok reaching for the cordless affixed to the wall in the kitchen as it rang.

"Rachel Mohr." She said into the phone as she rested it in the crock of her shoulder.

"Hey Baby girl." A warm gravely voice came threw the phone, the static distorted it a little but it still brought a smile to Rachel's face.

"Daddy I was just thinking about you." Rachel replied checking her rice. "I was just making your S. and S. Chicken."

"Oh now doesn't that sound good right now." Her father replied warmly.

"What's the matter?" Rachel asked with a chuckle. "Food in India not suiting your pallet right now?"

"Honey, I'm well into my fifty's now, you now old folks like me can't eat that spicy food."

"Oh come on dad, you're not that old." Rachel replied as she turned off the heat on the Wok.

Checking her Rice she turned the heat off on that as well and grabbed her small salad sitting down on the table and putting her bare feet up on top of it. "She how's the trip otherwise?" She asked stuffing a fork full of salad into her mouth.

"It's been nice, going back and tracing the foot steps of my youth. A lot of it still reminds me of your mother though." He said in a wistful voice. " It was down here that she started to call me Danni instead of Daniel, strangest thing so out of the blue." He said with a sigh. Rachel smiled as she mentally saw him shake his and shake it off before he spoke again. "Well any how I just called to give my love and make sure everything was alright down there."

"Yeah every things good dad, works good friends are good, life's good." Rachel said in a cheery voice. She hated to lie to him but didn't even consider explaining half of what was going on in her life right now, he didn't even know about immortals for god's sake.

"All right Honey, talk to you later. Love you."

"I love you to dad." Rachel said with a slight smile before hanging up. Setting the phone on the table she quickly finished the salad, and dished up the rest of her meal, pulling out her chopsticks. The rest of the meal she spent sitting at the table her head bobbing in time to the music.

After dinner she sat on her rugged floor in the basement with a beer. The basement was one big open space she'd cleared out for her martial arts practice. She was proficient with Staffs, knifes, and hand to hand; she like to have a place set aside to practice. She also found that it helped to lower her stress levels and relax her. After about a half an hour she stood up and started to do some stretches. Walking over to the CD Player she put in the JoyDrop CD she'd brought down and put it in.

Grabbing her staff she moved to the center of the room, and began to do a series of moves, the motions almost instantly helping her cluttered mind. The fluid movements seemed to help put her soul to rest, and helped her think clearly. She was positive that it was Cassandra calling her, she just didn't have any thing to prove it. She wasn't that sure if she believed Methos but she would trust him, she didn't have much of a choice. Closing her eyes Rachel made every move of her body connected to the staffs, letting her mind go blank as she just focused on moving. Stopping she slammed one end of the staff on the ground, signaling the end of the exercise.

She glanced over at the cordless on the floor with her beer that was presently ringing. Putting her staff up and lowering the music she picked up the phone and answered it.

"Rachel Mohr." She said into the phone sure she knew who it was.

"Do you believe now?" Ice Queen-Bitch breathed into the phone.

"So Adam is Methos," Rachel said lightly toweling herself down. "And you're Cassandra, what did you do to Mark?" Rachel asked her eyes narrowing as she heard the mad chuckle on the other end of the line.

"The man was just a simple tool to get me where I needed."

"You left that man a wreck he didn't deserve that, he had nothing to do with what took place three thousand years ago." Rachel replied hoping to talk some séance into the woman. If she'd known that many people had tried repeatedly over the millennia she wouldn't have bothered.

"Yes, and neither did the man I have now." Cassandra replied in a cool voice. Suddenly Rachel could hear a man in the background screaming in pain choking and wailing in turns, a voice hauntingly familiar.

"Cassandra what do you want?" she asked in a paper-thin voice.

"Methos' head on a stick." Cassandra replied icily. She heard the mans cries increase in a sort of panicky scream.

"That man is innocent, what the hell do you need him for." She asked her desperately, wishing she could help him some how.

"To prove a point," Cassandra's voice paused and she heard a sick cracking and the screams were cut off. "This will all continue until I have him in my clutches." Cassandra said in an icy voice before the line went dead. Growling angrily Rachel threw the cordless into the couch pressed up against the far wall, spinning she did a roundhouse, picturing Cassandra in her path.

The night after Methos had found out about Cassandra he walked into Joe's bar. The door had said closed but it was unlocked, and invitation for any close friends. Stepping inside Methos felt the prickle of a pre-immortal presence. Looking inside Methos saw Joe behind the bar with Rachel sitting in front of him; the two of them turned towards him at the sound of the door. He walked further inside not speaking till he pulled up a barstool next to Rachel.

"Joe, Rachel." He said nodding to each in turn, and accepting the beer he didn't even order yet.

"I wasn't aware you know Rachel." Joe replied as he pulled out another and gave it to Rachel.

"Hello again M-Adam." Rachel slipped and closed her eyes heavily.

Rachel sat with her eyes closed, snapping them open when she heard Joe's exclamation.

"She knows you're Methos?" Joe asked in surprise.

"What? I never said he was Methos." Rachel said glaring at him.

"No, but only his friends who know he's Methos call him Madam." Joe offered with a smile. Rachel snorted and shook her head, before locking eyes with Joe.

"You were about to give me a name?" She said to him with sad eyes. Joe also dropped his smile as sadness came to his eyes.

"Dave Harper." Joe said sadly.

"Shit!" Rachel exclaimed jumping out of her chair and pushing violently away from the bar with one hand as the other held her beer. "I knew that fucking voice sounded familiar." She said with defeat. She put her free hand on her fore head, as she thought about Mary. She'd been dating Dave off and on for the five years, he'd been Cassandra's Watcher.

This last month he'd asked her to marry him, and Mary had accepted. She was supposed to go for measurements next week with her, having been asked to be the maid of honor. Looks like the only thing they'd be buying now was black dresses. Rachel came back to the bar with a start, the glass beer bottle in her hand shattering with the force she was squeezing it. She gritted her teeth in pain as the glass sliced into her hand. Methos was at her side in a second, prying her fingers open when she couldn't.

He walked her quickly over behind the bar and to the sink, running cold water over the bleeding palm. Digging into the First Aide Joe had brought he got a pair of forceps and pulled out the shards that had gone into her hand.

"Have you had a Tetanus lately?" He asked her as he dabbed lightly on her palm with gauze.

"Yeah, three years ago." Rachel replied.

"It won't need stitches, but I'm going to need to clean it before I wrap it up." Methos said looking into her eyes. Looking into the expressive eyes Rachel nodded her head, looking away to take the scotch that Joe offered her. "Alright this is going to sting." He said. Throwing back the Scotch she handed it back to Joe nodding at Methos. After cleaning the wounds Methos bandaged them. The three of them sat down at the tables close to the stage, beers and scotch in hand.

"Who is Dave Harper?" Methos asked looking at Rachel.

"He worked as Cassandra's Watcher, she killed him." Rachel replied looking up at him.

"What!" Joe exclaimed completely lost. "How did you come to _that _conclusion?"

"Cassandra's been calling me for two months Joe. Course I didn't know she was Cassandra until last night when she called me and killed Dave. I was on the phone, I don't know what she was doing to him, but I could hear him screaming bloody murder until suddenly there was the sound of cracking and his screams cut off. Joe, how was Dave killed?" She asked tears in her eyes.

"He had a series of burns over his body and his neck was broken." Joe told her taking her good hand. "I'm sorry Rachel." He replied giving her hand a slight squeeze.

Rachel gave him a small smile nodding her head. Joe leaned back into his chair taking a drink of his Scotch. "So now why is Cassandra calling you?"

"She's the one that told me Adam was Methos. She also is the cause of Marks madness some how, where you aware that the Watchers found him after he'd been kidnapped by Cassandra?" Rachel asked.

"No I wasn't." Joe replied surprised.

"Interesting, neither was I." Rachel replied.

"Did she use The Voice on him?" Methos asked her.

"Yeah that's what he said, he told me she used her voice to make him do things he didn't want to." Rachel replied leaning back in her chair.

"Do ever recall her doing that to you?" Methos asked.

"No…would I?" She asked looking up into his eyes for the truth.

"Probably, it depends on how long she's been doing it and what she's making you do." Methos replied leaning forward.

"How does she do it, is it a form of hypnotism?" She asked him leaning forward as well.

"In a form yes, are you easily hypnotized?"

"No I had a teacher in Collage that swore everyone could be hypnotized. He used to do it to the students all the time, be he could never get me under far enough." Rachel said with a slight grin, hoping…

"There are ways around that thou, drugs for instants." Methos replied narrowing his eyes.

"Okay so how the hell do I tell if she's been fucking with my head!" Rachel exclaimed pushing up from the table and pacing.

"Rachel calm down I can help you." Methos said rising from his chair.

"Don't tell me to calm down you're not the one who could have some crazy bitch inside your head." She said, running her hands threw her hair.

"Rachel." Methos said in a commanding voice. Rachel snapped her head over to look at him and he came to a stand right in front of her. "She's not going to make you Crazy I promise you that, I wont allow it." He said putting a hand on her shoulder. "I can find out whether or not she's been using The Voice on you. We have to do it some place more comfortable. We could go to my place or yours but if so I need to pick up a few things."

"Yours if it's easier." Rachel replied sighing.

"Joe?" Methos said turning to look at the man at the table.

"I'll look and see if I can find anything on her whereabouts." Joe replied standing up and making his way towards his office in back. Methos nodded and looked back over at Rachel who was standing in front of him with her eyes closed.

"Are you all right?" He asked her. She opened her eyes and gave him a week smile, nodding. "Good, do you want a ride or do you want to follow me in your car?" Methos asked grabbing his coat from the back of his chair.

"I'll follow you in my car, I need to call Mary Heat to see if she's okay." Rachel replied pulling her coat on. "She and Dave were due to get married in three months." Rachel replied opening the door and stepping out. Methos stepped out behind her, following her to the side of the building.

"Rachel." Methos said stopping behind her.

Stopping Rachel turned and looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Dave Harper was a friend of yours?" Methos asked her.

"Yeah, we all went threw training together. Me Mary Heat, Dave Harper, and Justin Paul." Rachel replied tucking her hands in her coat pockets.

"I'm sorry." Methos said looking down at his feet.

"Just so you know, I'm not blaming you for any of this." Rachel said turning and making her way towards her car. Methos walked over to his, starting it up and pulling out. As he drove to his place, he kept an eye out for her in his rearview mirror. At one point he thought he lost her, but she was behind him again at the next light. They parked in front of his Loft stepping out and walking side by side to his Loft. After letting them in Methos offered her a seat and took her coat, hanging them up on the coat rack by the door.

Rachel sat nervously fidgeting with her hands in her lap. Methos moved around the Loft behind her, making her nervousness worse. She couldn't grab on to a sold thought, her mind was moving a million miles per hour and leaving her far behind. At first she just thought she had some crazy immortal on her hands, now she knew she was more right then she ever wanted to be. To make matters worse this crazy woman could be making a playground of her mind.

A low headache was building in the temples of her head, making it even harder to concentrate. Rubbing her temples Rachel sighed threw clenched teeth Dave's last scream traveling threw her mind. Goose bombs rose on the back of her neck, and Rachel shivered. She didn't understand what kind of a point Cassandra was trying to make with Dave's death. Rachel looked up when some extra light was added to the room. He was bringing candles into the living room, placing them strategically to add more light.

The light sent of sandalwood wafted around the room from some incense lit in the kitchen. Rachel closed her eyes and breathed in threw her nose trying to calm her ecstatic thoughts, she jumped when the cell phone in her pocket chirped to life. Throwing a glance to Methos whom was lighting a few more candles by the front door Rachel pulled her phone out and flipped it open before pressing it to her ear.

"Rachel Mohr." Rachel said sharply into the phone.

"He's an Immortal!" A woman's sharp voiced hissed. Rachel's eyebrows creased in confusion before she recognized the voice.

"Mare?" Rachel asked her voice tinged with worry, she had been unable to contact her friend on the ride over.

"What the hell are you doing hanging out with him, he's a bloody immortal!" She cried out angrily.

"Where are you Mary? What's wrong?" Rachel asked in concern.

"I saw you, I was called to watch Adam."

"He has a watcher?" Rachel asked looking over at Methos with wide eyes. She groaned and closed her eyes, letting her head fall back against her shoulders. The Tribunal is going to have a field day with me, Rachel thought sourly.

"Looks like you don't have to worry about your secret getting out." Mary said breathing heavily into the phone.

"Mary what's going on, where are you?" Rachel asked standing, concern thick in her voice.

"Sorry didn't get a chance to ask Ice Queen here where she was taking me." Mary said her breath hitching before she let out a sharp scream.

There was some sound like shuffling going on in the back ground before Cassandra's voice came over the phone.

"Mary's a little tied up right now sorry." Cassandra said giggling at her own childish joke.

"Cassandra." Rachel hissed out her name. "Mary has nothing to do with what happened three thousand years ago damn it!"

"She does now, because you make her." Cassandra replied doing something else to make Mary scream.

"Damn it Cassandra what the hell do you want from me?" Rachel asked desperately. A warm strong hand gripped her shoulder, and Rachel closed her eyes and took a deep breath when she felt Methos move up beside her. She needed to keep calm, and not let Cassandra get to her, the woman was obviously picking people close to her for a reason.

"I want you to bring me Methos." Cassandra hissed and Rachel jerked when she heard the sizzling in the back ground along with Mary's scream. Closing her eyes tightly Rachel tried to keep the tears back, knowing there was nothing she could do to save her friends life. Her hand holding the phone shook as Rachel listened to Mary's screams in the background. "Damn it Cassandra please!" Rachel cried desperately into the phone. Strong fingers slipped under hers and Rachel gave him the phone, slipping down into the couch.

"Hello Cassandra." Methos said softly into the phone. "I thought MacLeod told you to let me live?"

There was a pause as Methos listened to whatever crazy ramblings Cassandra was getting into.

"Let the mortal go Cassandra she has nothing to do with this." Methos said sadly. He stood there for a moment quietly before hanging up the phone. Rachel fisted her hands in her hair, willing all the tracks from the past to stop playing in her head. Wishing away the images of her and Mary, Dave, and Paul graduating from Watcher training. Wishing away the image of Dave down on his knees the night they were all at the restaurant, asking Mary to marry him.

"I'm sorry." Methos said softly. She looked up to see him watching her with pain and guilt in his eyes.

"She's going after Paul next, it can't be coincidence that she's killing Watchers that are my friends." Rachel said locking her eyes with his.

"I know." Methos nodded. "It occurred to me when you told me about them earlier."

"So what now? What are we going to do?" She asked him hopping for…something she didn't know what.

"I want you to stay here, and wait for me. I'm going to find Paul and make sure he gets somewhere safe. Stay here Rachel, it's safer for you." Methos said grabbing his coat and putting it on.

Rachel nodded as she sat on the couch, her eyes on the ground as her mind raced. She listened as he opened the door and closed it behind him, not moving as she heard the sounds of the locks engaged. She sat there like for an indeterminable amount of time before she stood up and began to look around more at his Loft. When she got to his stereo she turned it on for something to do, making sure the volume was low. Her mind was swinging from memory to memory about her friends that were being killed horribly one by one because of her.

After wandering at his bookshelf Rachel went back to turn the stereo off uneasy alone now. She sat back down on the couch, listening to his clock in the living room tick out the minutes. She can't be sure how long she was listening to the new sound and not really listening to it. She sat up with a start and whirled to face the door when she realized what the sound was, someone was picking the lock! She was looking around frantically for a weapon, any kind of weapon for she knew the surely Methos would have one somewhere. The door swung open, and a short-ish curly haired woman stepped inside, closing the door swiftly behind her, it was Cassandra.

"You are to come with me." Cassandra said in a melodious voice.

Rachel's feet seemed to move of the own accord and she realized she was closer to the woman. She stopped her eyes wide, and realized she could hear the difference in the woman's voice when she tried to force people with the Voice.

"Come with me!" Cassandra said in a sharper melodious tone. Rachel forced herself still, and realized that it wasn't as hard this time as it was the last.

"It's not going to be that easy bitch." Rachel hissed out.

"Do not disobey me." Cassandra said trying the Voice again. Rachel steeled herself again, but didn't have to fight half as much as she did before.

"Looking for a slave Cassandra? Sorry I won't oblige you." Rachel replied sneering at her.

"You will help me end Methos!" Cassandra hissed approaching her. Rachel looked briskly over the Loft and decided it was safer to stay in the middle of the living room where she had room to duck her sword, if she brought it out.

Cassandra did try and punch her, which Rachel easily blocked, sending a right-hook her way. Cassandra caught it right in the jaw, knocking her head back before she planted her feet and sent Rachel flying over Methos' coffee table scattering everything. Cassandra hissed out her displeasure and pulled out a gun, that Rachel quickly kicked away. Cassandra pulled a knife on her and Rachel moved blocking her arm and twisting it to the braking point, before she ducked around her and moved away. Cassandra pinned her to the wall, her vice-like grip around her throat, meeting her eye for eye. One moment Rachel was looking at the Witch and the next she was lost in her eyes, her knees giving out from under her as she felt a prick on her right arm.

Rachel awoke with the room spinning and her stomach acting as if it was going to heave up its meager contents. Rachel shifted to her side and breathed in threw her mouth in gulps trying not to get sick. Hands suddenly enfolded her and a glass was pressed to her lips, Rachel started gulping the liquid down for her parched throat before she even realized who was giving her this drink, and that her arms were tied together at the wrist in front of her. Rachel yanked herself away from her, causing some of the drink to spill on her lap, and stared at her angrily. Cassandra stood up, and Rachel saw the look of the Buzz cross her face.

Reaching forward she pulled at Rachel till she was off the bed, a sword appearing in her hand. Cassandra stepped out of the room of what looked to have been an office in an old abandoned warehouse. Cassandra kept an iron grip on her left shoulder, holding Rachel in front of her with the sword to her neck. Rachel saw movement in the shadows of the large room, and Methos stepped out into view his Ivenhoe in his hand.

"Leave her out of this Cassandra." Methos said his eyes flashing.

"Kill him Rachel, he is evil." Cassandra said using the voice again. It was harder to resist then before but she managed.

"Not from this view point bitch." Rachel hissed out. Rachel watched Methos as he stepped closer, and felt Cassandra tighten her grip on her shoulder but instinct drew her blade away from Rachel's neck and towards Methos.

"You know old man I've never been one for playing the damsel in distress." Rachel said shrugging.

Moving quickly she hit Cassandra in two spots at once, her gut and wrists both blows dealt by her elbows. At the same instant that Cassandra dropped her sword Rachel curled her foot around Cassandra's ankle and pushed them back. She used her weight as she landed on Cassandra to knock the wind out of her and rolled away standing.

"Joe's waiting." Methos said locking eyes with her for a moment. Rachel moved quickly to the darkest corner of the room, back behind some stacks to find the older Watcher. She found him backed almost into the farthest corner, and she remembered that Methos and Cassandra were about to fight.

She turned once she was waiting beside the watcher, her eyes rapt on the two circling each other. Somehow Rachel could tell by the look on Cassandra's face that she knew she was going to lose. They spoke nothing and engaged, testing each other it seemed before pulling back. Methos had scored first blood, and he did it again a moment later. Threw out the fight Rachel assumed that Cassandra scored about one third of the hits that Methos did.

Suddenly with a flurry of movement too quick to track Cassandra's sword hit the concrete ground with a clanking sound and Methos' sword was at her throat. Methos moved from where he stood at her side to stand facing her, dragging the blade along as he did. Blood dripped down her neck from the wound, but Cassandra did not flinch.

"If I let you walk, will you stop this?" Methos asked her so softly Rachel barley caught it.

"Never!" Cassandra hissed in hatred. Rachel was shocked when she felt a surge of disappointment in her heart. This woman had kidnapped her, surly to brain wash her, and she wanted her to live? No, she didn't want Methos to have to do this that was all.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion for the next moment as Methos drew back before dealing the last blow, her head hitting the ground with an odd thump. Methos turned and looked at her, his green eyes vibrant and if she was not mistaken filled with water. Then Joe was pulling her back, as Methos turned to great the rising Quickening. She and Joe huddled in the back of the building for protection leaning against each other. When the storm finally came to a close they pulled them self's out and stepped towards Methos.

He sat on his knees on the ground, breathing heavily. Glancing at Joe Rachel stepped away from him and ran to Methos. She kneeled on the ground in front of him, worried for him.

"Are you alright?" She asked in a soft voice. Methos lifted his head to look at her, a smile on his lips.

"You've just been kidnapped and you're asking me if I'm alright?" Methos asked her with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm sorry." Rachel said lowering her eyes and looking to the ground.

"For what?" Methos asked her in surprise. "None of this was your fault."

"If it hadn't been for me, Cassandra would never have been able to force you to this." Rachel said looking over at the fallen body. Strong lean fingers grasped her chin gently, turning her to look at him.

"If it hadn't been for you, Cassandra would have found some other way. I'm just thankful that this ended without anyone else getting hurt." Methos told her before pulling back and slowly making his way to his feet. "Let's get you home, tomorrow I can check and see if she was messing around in your head." Methos said taking her by the hand and leading the way out of the building.

A week later Joe's Bar after hours

Rachel sat at the bar next to Methos, Joe standing behind the bar washing glasses. The three of them sat for the moment in silence, Methos and Rachel sipping their beers. Methos handed Joe the bottle he'd just finished, motion for another. Joe came back with two beers, setting the extra in front of Rachel just as she finished it. She offered him a smile in thanks taking the offered bottle.

"So you sure Cassandra didn't do anything to Rachel?" Joe asked raising an eyebrow at Methos.

"Positive, she couldn't get past her defenses, I'm not even sure drugs would work that well either. Not unless it was given to her in high doses."

"Oh geez thanks, I really needed to know that." Rachel said smirking over at Methos.

"Well just think of it this way." Methos said motioning with his hand and beer. "What is the likely hood of ending up in that situation again?" He said smirking at her.

"Hanging out with you, it's high, real high." Rachel said shaking her head. "It was only dark Irony that saved me from the Watchers knowing that I was 'interfering' with an Immortal. Mare had been sent to watch you right after she got off the phone with me informing me of the fact that you'd been identified. Cassandra grabbed her and killed her before she had a chance to report me, and I think every body in here knows how the Watchers feel about oath breakers. I know the Watchers have made an acceptation with Joe here, but I don't have half as much pull. So I'm going to ask for an acceptation with you because I'd like your help with my translating business. My father has retired and I need another translator, that is unless you have something better to do with your time?" Rachel asked looking over at him. Methos smiled over at her shaking his head with a chuckle.

"No if they say yes, I will be more than willing." He said nodding at her.

"All right, thanks." Rachel said reaching over to shake hands with him.

ThE

N

D


End file.
